Month: Sep 2015
“The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry has been in my top five books since I was roughly the same age as the Prince himself. I have long been an admirer of Saint-Exupéry and have marvelled at the fullness of his brief life. But I discovered many wonderful things that I never knew about him or the background to his writing of that book in the Wikipedia article about it. This is a fine piece about the book — very detailed and inspiring. Follow the link below to read it. I recommend it wholeheartedly to you and hope it will put you on the edge of your seat, in flight, with joyful tears, as much as it did for me…
Hands before me feeling round the
two-faced smoothly paint and bare
faced walls ensconced in frozen dark
ened broken bell-like gloom
Ceiling pushing down and deep and
doomsomely (it drudgely creeps).
I feel the flatness painted matt
ness maze of white in blackness
When nought but honour matters anymore
a crazy sense of gleedom grips the soul
and flings all hope with gladness to the floor
(for worthless dreams can’t make what’s broken whole).
When nought but virtue thrills you with its shine
and there’s no leechlike selfdom left to pet,
you’ll find you’ve reached a mutant borderline.
All feigning’s then revealed in silhouette.
THIS IS MY MONTH FOR LAYING EVERYTHING ON THE LINE — for letting it all hang out, holding nothing back, risking the lot, wearing my heart on my sleeve. Life, art, visions, dreams, heart, love, future, everything. Solar and lunar eclipses at new moon and full moon. Sun, new moon and Jupiter in opposition to Neptune in Pisces (my sun-sign). Life-changing stuff. It’s make or break time. Could go either of two ways. I’ve closed doors which needed closing. I’ve opened doors with nothing but a precipice outside. I’ve done my bit. Now it’s up to forces beyond my control. I am calm and inwardly standing to attention. Whichever way it goes, I am ready to act and do what has to be done. I am the Dice Man.
So now you woke the serpent that has slept
through years — lain dormant in the cave I made
when sweet remembrances of you I’d swept
into a glorybook, now somewhat frayed.
Your words: “Sometimes I run into your face
within the centre of myself” have raised
a maelstrom in my soul, as I retrace
the furnace steps we took — entranced, amazed.
RECENTLY, SOMEONE WROTE TO ME SLANDERING A FRIEND and working colleague with some very serious accusations but offering no evidence to back them up. I hope I don’t have to tell you that to accept someone’s slander of another human being without any hard evidence is a serious betrayal of their humanity and your relationship with them. People very often slander others for despicable reasons of their own and a little investigation shows that it was all just hot air with no genuine substance. Due diligence and substantiation are the least you can do for someone who has been slandered.
when they want something
they cannot have
will want it all the more.
when it becomes available
they’re not so sure.
How does this situation come about?
what fans the flames
of such desire
when greenness of grass
on other sides
sets hearts afire
yet when that grass
becomes the grass of home
it loses its vivacity
extinguishes its flames
and turns from green
That single candleflame
contains more honesty
than I have ever seen.
She burns this way and that
(though kindled by another hand)
and as I look from where I longingly am sat,
I realise that flame can only burn
because there is supplied
a generous quantity of wax.
This life is a latticework of leftover
drownful dreams which, when painted
with our drainlike thinned-out blood,
leaves desperadoed ebbing stains
of wholly homemade gravy-feigning
pigment wash upon the canvas
brushstrokes’ brave and brackish
left-outsided wilting undergush.
The sun slipped lithely down to bed last night,
red-faced, apologetic. For the day
was shorter than the one before by quite
some time in nature’s daily cabaret.
Now Autumn makes its haste and Winter creeps
toward us unrepentantly. It’s just
the gateway to another Spring, which sleeps
when Summer comes. (In passing time I trust).